


One Drop of Wine...

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Brother/Brother Incest, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, FE3H Kinkmeme, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Incest, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Sibling Incest, background Lambert/Rodrigue, no beta we die like Glenn, rapist pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Here are three facts, in no particular order of importance:1.) Lambert is obscenely drunk.2.) Lambert is an obscenely concupiscent drunk.3.) Rufus is not a man to allow opportunity to pass him by.Perhaps there is something wrong with Rufus, he briefly muses. One shouldn’t covet their own blood, after all, but Rufus has found himself long plagued by the desire to take his dear baby brother as his own. If Rufus were a better person, he would ignore these urges, bury them deep in his mind and never let them free.He is, unfortunately, not a better person._____Fill for FE3H Kink Meme
Relationships: Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd/Rufus Blaiddyd
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Anonymous





	One Drop of Wine...

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Rufus has always been attracted to Lambert and one day finds him drunk and decides to take advantage of him.

Here are three facts, in no particular order of importance:

1.) Lambert is _obscenely_ drunk.

2.) Lambert is an _obscenely_ concupiscent drunk.

3.) Rufus is not a man to allow opportunity to pass him by.

Of course, Rufus is considerably intoxicated as well, but not nearly to the degree of his dear little brother, the man’s cheeks flushed red as the wine that sloshes from his goblet, wobbling with each raucous laugh and toss of his head. It is, perhaps, fortunate that they retired to Rufus’ suite to continue their celebration after Lady Patricia grew irate at her husband’s inebriation.

Rufus sips thoughtfully on his own wine, watching his brother with calculating eyes. It would be rather easy, in his state, to feign the level of intoxication that would leave Lambert free of suspicion come morning… if he were even able to remember. A simple mistake, too much wine clouding both of their judgments, overcome in the heat of the moment. Lambert would bear him no ill will. He never could, after all.

It is exceedingly tempting, especially given the way his brother presses himself close to Rufus’ side, nuzzling into his neck and toying lightly with his hair. The touch makes his cock twitch in his pants, and if Lambert is capable of noticing in his state, he says nothing.

Perhaps there is something wrong with Rufus, he briefly muses. One shouldn’t covet their own blood, after all, but Rufus has found himself long plagued by the desire to take his dear baby brother as his own. To explore his mouth at his leisure, to map his skin under his fingertips methodically, to feel his heat wrapped around him. If Rufus were a better person, he would ignore these urges, bury them deep in his mind and never let them free.

He is, unfortunately, not a better person.

For his part, Lambert has made it painfully clear that he does not reciprocate his brother’s affection. Or, if he does, he’s exceedingly good at pretending otherwise. One particularly painful memory has tormented Rufus for years; Lambert at sixteen, sweet and naive as only he was in his youth, scorning his advances when Rufus had finally worked up the courage to kiss him. His brother, annoyingly kind in all regards, had let him down gently, insisted Rufus must have simply been confused.

Rufus had nearly had him after his precious first wife passed, when Lambert was so deep in despair he simply longed to throw himself into the first pair of arms that opened for him. Patrica had beaten him to the punch while he was biding his time. Out of fear of missing his chance forever, Rufus had once again told Lambert of his affection on the eve of his wedding to his new bride-to-be. Lambert had sighed heavily, believing the matter had been resolved years ago. It was _indecent_ , his brother had insisted. _Improper. Immoral._ And he would hear no more about it.

The thought was laughable. He didn’t seem to care about _decency_ when he chose to lay with his dear Duke Fraldarius rather than his wife. Where was his _propriety_ when he fell to his knees and serviced Rodrigue with his mouth? Did he care about _morality_ when he bent his Shield over his desk when he thought no one would overhear?

But, like this, with Lambert exuberantly drunk, he is covered. He can finally sate his need, even if just for this one night. Bed Lambert and simply be content with the one night fate had deigned to grant him.

How could Rufus deny the whims of fate?

Lambert’s hands were busy roving over Rufus’ chest, laughing at his own slurred jokes. Rufus settles in closer to him, leaning his head against his brother and winding an arm around his back. If Lambert thought it odd, he didn’t show it, fingers still contentedly tracing chaotic patterns through Rufus’ tunic. His clumsy fingers brush over a nipple, and Rufus lets himself whine low in his throat, almost as if it is an involuntary reaction.

Lambert’s laughter cuts off rather abruptly, hands falling still for just a moment before repeating the motion. Rufus lets his head fall back a little, the smallest of moans slipping through his lips. He hears his brother’s breath hitch. Lambert draws away, and for a moment he worries he’d misjudged the man’s intoxication, that he is more clear-minded than he’d given him credit for.

He knows that is not the case when he tilts his head to see his brother’s face. Lambert is staring at him through unfocused eyes, pupils blown, mouth agape. He totters slightly where he sits. They stare at each other for a long moment, Rufus doing his best to match his brother’s expression, his drunken wobbling. Slowly, he cups the face he’s longed to kiss for so many years and leans in.

Lambert kisses him back when their lips meet. It is an inelegant kiss, sloppy and fumbling given his brother’s drunkenness. Rufus can taste the wine on his lips as he dips his tongue into his hot, pliant mouth. He is vaguely aware of the clatter of the goblet and the slosh of spilled wine; his brother has dropped his cup in his haste to get his hands around Rufus’ shoulders and Rufus can’t be bothered to care about the stain he is sure will mar the rug in the morning.

They kiss fervently for a time, a breathless, dizzying thing. Lambert makes the sweetest noises into his mouth, a needy keening as he pulls Rufus closer to him, finger knotting into now-disheveled golden hair.

Emboldened by his success, Rufus lets his fingers wander down his brother’s chest and further still, and Rufus is delighted when they graze the bulge in Lambert’s trousers. The sound Lambert makes is positively debauched, hips canting into Rufus’ touch.

Lambert breaks the kiss abruptly, reeling back and staring at Rufus, bewildered. “Ruf… Rufus…” His lips are shiny with spit in the low firelight. “We shouldn’t.”

Rufus scoots in closer, languidly draping his arms over Lambert’s shoulders. “Do you want to?” Lambert looks torn, hazy eyes darting between Rufus’ lips and the door. He looks lost, like a puppy unsure what master it’s meant to heed. “I’ll take care of you,” Rufus promises, forcing his words to slur. He cups his brother’s chin and places a tender kiss to his cheek. “I’ll make you feel good. Would you like that?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Lambert whines, letting his eyes slide closed as Rufus begins kissing his way down his brother’s neck. He doesn’t leave marks; it would be unfortunate if Lady Patricia were to find out in the morning.

Lambert blinks up at him in confusion when Rufus stands until he grabs his brother’s hand, gently urging him to his feet and leading him to the bedroom. It is pleasantly warm in the bedroom, a well-stoked fire burning in the hearth. Lambert is pliant as Rufus undresses him slowly, letting his lips press to the skin exposed with each shed piece of clothing.

His brother is less gentle in undressing him, his intoxication, haste, and brute strength an unfortunate combination for Rufus’ clothes as they land on the floor among Lambert’s in tatters. But it is worth it as they press their bare bodies together, leaking erections sliding against each other as they grope and grind and exchange urgent kisses.

Rufus guides Lambert to the bed, urging him to lay back among the plush pillows as he roots through the bedside table for oil. Lambert is certainly familiar with this part, considering his trysts with Duke Fraldarius, and he parts his legs eagerly, inviting Rufus to settle between them.

The oil is cold when Rufus coats his fingers in it. He lets it warm before pressing a soft finger against Lambert’s needy hole. Lambert tosses his head back, moaning already, just from his brother lightly circling his rim. Wrapping his free hand around Lambert’s considerable length – comparable to his own – Rufus pushes past the tight ring of muscle and buries his finger in a single thrust.

His brother’s hole clenches around him, so tight and hot. The dulcet whimpers and whines Lambert makes as Rufus fingers him open are delicious, and Rufus knows he will cherish them when this moment has long passed by. He is patient as he stretches his brother, working a second, then a third finger in with no rush.

When Rufus crooks his fingers and massages against the bundle of nerves inside of Lambert, the man’s hips buck desperately up into Rufus’ hand, chasing his pleasure. Rufus has never been able to deny Lambert anything, and he continues to indulge him, three fingers pumping wildly inside him, until his brother spends with a rapturous cry.

Wiping his hand with little care on the sheet – something he may have, perhaps, _not_ done if he were sober, but life’s too short to worry about that – Rufus crawls up his brother’s body, leaving a trail of kisses against his flushed skin in his wake. Lambert is boneless and pliable under him and he accepts Rufus’ lips happily when they press to his own. Rufus reaches between them, not breaking their heated kiss, and hastily slicks his length, pumping it a few times to bring it to full hardness. When he prompts Lambert to wrap his legs around his hips, his brother does so, whining a little when Rufus pulls away to line himself up at Lambert's slicked entrance.

He is gentle, sliding slowly into his brother’s hole. “Goddess,” he groans, burying his face in the crook of Lambert’s neck, “you’re taking me so well, Lambert.” Lambert’s strong arms reach up, wrapping around him and holding him close as Rufus bottoms out inside him. Rufus pepper’s the man’s neck with tender kisses, giving him time to adjust to the stretch of his cock.

Impatient, Lambert cants his hips, urging Rufus to move. He is more than happy to oblige, rolling his hips and drawing the most divine moans from his brother’s lips. His pace builds gradually, their sweat-slick bodies moving together, like they were meant to be.

Lambert’s spent member twitches valiantly, hardening as each of Rufus’ thrusts strikes his prostate. The man writhes and bucks under him, graceless and out of time with Rufus’ motions, his nails raising red-hot lines on Rufus’ skin as they rake down his back in his throes of passion. Lips suck and nip against his neck, Lambert marking him, and Rufus will relish each bruise for days to come.

He brings his brother to orgasm once more, feeling his hot seed splatters between their chests, a shuddering sob clawing from Lambert as he bites down on Rufus’ shoulder. And, Goddess, the way he clenches so tight around Rufus’ cock…

Rufus fucks him through his own orgasm, spending deep inside and falling boneless into the arms that hold him tight. They lay there panting in the afterglow, sticky from sweat and spend. Lambert hisses as Rufus pulls his softened cock out, and Rufus can’t help but stop and admire the dribble of his seed as it spills out of his brother’s abused hole. Lambert keens when Rufus leave him, hands scrambling in the dark for him. “I’ll be right back,” he assures him softly, pressing a soft kiss to his brow that seemed to assuage him. He returns a moment later with a damp rag from the wash basin, cleaning the spend from his brother's chest and between his legs.

After cleaning himself as well, Rufus crawls into bed, lets Lambert encircle him in his arms under the thick covers. The less than pleasant ramifications that will await him in the morning will be worth it, he decides as Lambert scatters sweet – if a little slobbery – kisses to Rufus’ neck and shoulders.

Rufus cranes his neck, claiming Lambert’s lips with his own for a final, fleeting kiss before they drift off to sleep. “I love you,” he whispers.

“Love you, Rufus…” Lambert slurs sleepily against Rufus' hair, eyes starting to droop.

“I hope you've had a happy birthday, brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title Quote: 
> 
> "One drop of wine is enough to redden a whole glass of water."
> 
> The Hunchback of Notredame by Victor Hugo


End file.
